


our hearts bloom until they ache

by day_lily



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flowers, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/day_lily/pseuds/day_lily
Summary: Sylvain requests for a bouquet of flowers and a love potion every week. Felix wonders if he's losing touch with his magical abilities.Written for Sylvix Week 2019 Day 7/8: flowers + magic





	our hearts bloom until they ache

**Author's Note:**

> here is my (belated) post for day 7/8's prompts.  
tags may be changed/updated. and oop i promise more sylvix interactions in the upcoming chapters!
> 
> enjoy!!

Felix grimaces as he scurries from the safety of his car to the shop entrance, raising his hands up to shield his head from as much of the rain and hail continuing to come down in steady sheets as he can. Fhirdiad’s springs were littered with storms such as these, and Felix can’t say he’s all too thrilled by them when they do arrive.

He breathes out a sigh of relief as he comes to a stop under the awning just above the door, shoving a hand into his pocket and digging around for his keys. The store is dark, save for the warm glow of a lantern shining just beyond one of the shop windows that catches his eye.

He raises an eyebrow at the sight.

The few decorative lanterns dotting the store are put out before both Annette and him leave for the night, so it could only mean that the sorceress had already arrived to unlock the shop. He tries the front door handle, hearing it click open softly under his hand. 

He’s usually the first one in—with a cauldron to get heated and ingredients to locate and sort through—but he mulls over the fact that though Fhirdiad’s springs came with a plethora of love potion requests, what always follows is a wave of countless floral arrangements and centerpieces for weddings to be made by Annette. After all, sunlight was scarce in Faerghus, especially so during the winter months, and its citizens were never ones to miss rejoicing in spring celebrations and joyous occasions whenever the long dark days of the cold, harsh season came to an end.

With the upcoming Faerghian Spring Festival in a few weeks, as well as the Garland Moon and its White Rose Wreaths festivities just around the corner, they would most likely be working away in the shop before the sun even rises and leave when the moonlight makes Fhirdiad’s cobblestone streets shine like pearls under their feet in order to finish everything on time for the next few months.

The wooden door behind him creaks shut and he stands in the doorway for a moment, relishing the pleasant earthy scent of the store and the thrum of Annette’s magic slowly drifting through the walkways and between various herbs and flowers like a lazy serpent. 

He flicks on the light switches before pulling off his soaking coat, running his hands through his damp hair as he makes his way through the storefront. As he’s hanging his coat up by his workbench in his little corner of the store, he hears the muffled sound of Annette’s voice coming from the back room, recognizing the first few notes of the last verse of the song she sings to budding plants to help them blossom.

_ She’s already ending the spell. _

Which means he'd missed it by just a few minutes.

A crying shame, really.

Felix has always been fascinated by Annette and her magic. Watching her make sprouts grow out of barren soil or bring wilted plants back from the verge of death with her voice alone always filled him with respect and awe for the young sorceress. Though he vehemently denies it whenever she asks, he really does enjoy hearing her sing whenever he gets the chance to. He wonders if she knows that her songs that were much like herself—always so enchanting and bursting with life—were certainly enough to get her up on a stage in Enbarr, in his humble opinion at least.

The plants living in the store seem to agree with him; he's seen the bluebells they keep near the entrance silently shake their bell-shaped blooms in time with her singing a few times, and it amuses him to no end.

_ “From buds to blooms and then to bouquets and boutonnieres! _

_ Oh, feel the rustle of the breeze on your petals and leaves! _

_ Grow and grow and-” _

He leans against the door frame of the back room, watching in amusement as Annette waves a small stick in front of her as if it were a conductor’s baton. Two ceramic pots were sitting in front of her, one with growing fern fronds not yet unfurled, the other with budding periwinkles. 

“Started the growing song without me today?”

“Gro-AH!” Annette screams, turning around with the stick held out in front of her as if it were a weapon. When she sees him, her eyebrows furrow and she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Felix! You’re the _ worst _. How many times must I tell you to announce yourself when you enter?” She scolds him, tossing the stick onto the table she stood in front of with a huff. “It’s rude to interrupt someone during a spell!”

“Hm. We have a bell that rings on the front door,” he responds, ignoring the glare she shoots at him as he walks into the room to stand next to her. The periwinkles are beginning to bloom, the baby blue petals opening delicately, almost hesitantly, and the fern fronds unfurl from their tight coils.

“What are you doing here so early anyway? It’s not even five in the morning-” He reaches out to pluck a blossom, yelling in surprise when Annette slaps his hand. 

“I could ask you the same,” she mutters, pushing him out of the way so she could pick up the ceramic pot, arms curled around it protectively. “Now stop that. I need these for my boutonnieres.”

“I recall you saying I can take any ingredients I needed for my work when we first began this business venture together,” he says nonchalantly, rubbing his still stinging hand. “I need that for a calming potion.”

The sorceress pauses, staring up at him with a fierce glare in her eyes before reaching down to pluck a few periwinkle bloom and hand it to him, albeit disgruntledly. “Now get back to your cauldron before the wind just so happens to knock it over and your twelve hours of continuous careful brewing for that potion was for naught.”

"I'd prefer it if such a thing didn't happen."

"Well then, I suppose you have no choice but to return to your designated station," Annette sniffs, setting the pot of periwinkles back down on the back room table.

"Very well," Felix agrees, cradling the baby blue blossoms in his palms as he heads for the storefront.

“Oh, and one last thing,” he calls over his shoulder just before he leaves, suddenly feigning interest in the potted fern that sat right next to door frame of the backroom as he lingers there, waiting for her reply.

She turns to look at him once more, an exasperated look on her face. “What do you want now, Felix?”

“I want to hear the growing song in full next time. The last line really is interesting–the notes are so dynamic in their movement, as well as the dance moves and footwork that go along with it. It makes for quite the ending. However, some of the earlier verses are just as intriguing, especially-”

“You are actually the worst, Felix. I hate you.”

* * *

Felix sighs, tossing a handful of cranberries into his cauldron, watching as they slowly bobbed up to the surface. The blue concoction burbles, as if in protest to the new addition, and he glares at it, picking up his ladle to stir at it reluctantly as he lets sparks of magic spill down his fingertips and into the brew. The potion seems to settle back down after that, letting out a quiet burp.

Damn it all. Damn Fhirdiad and its recent craze over love potions. Damn him for agreeing to take on all of these orders in the first place.

“What's with the big sigh, Felix Fraldarius? What troubles the mind of one of the most famous potion brewers in all of Fhirdiad?”

The sound of Annette’s laughter comes from somewhere above him, and he scowls, scooping up some of the wretched mixture and watching as it drips off the ladle and back down into the cauldron. 

“Seems like I’m only famous for making love potions.”

“Oh, Felix,” she says, and he looks up, seeing her peer down at him thoughtfully before returning to her task of carefully trimming a few stamens from the morning glories that had grown up onto the ceiling joists. “You get to be the one who assists them with the matters of their hearts, their saviour from their romantic woes! An important task, but by the Goddess, it's surprising it fell on the shoulders of someone like you. You have got to be the least romantic person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.” 

“Thanks.”

The bell on the front door rings out, alerting them both that someone had come in.

“Hello! Welcome to Blossoms & Brews! What can we do for you today?” Annette calls out in the direction of the door as she clambers down the steps of the ladder she’d been balancing on. She places the tiny glass jar filled with morning glory stamens on Felix’s workbench as she passes by, and his lips curl up into a brief, grateful smile. 

A red-headed man wearing fancy sunglasses walks into the store, dressed in a pristine snow white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black suit jacket matching his black dress pants hanging off his arm. He pulls off his sunglasses, looking around the store curiously and eyeing the pots of various herbs and flowers lining the display tables before his eyes land on Annette, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hello! I was hoping I could get a bouquet of flowers today, though leaving with one will prove difficult...as I’m sure I’ll be handing it to a pretty lady such as yourself before I leave.” The customer says, a charming smile on his lips as he winks at Annette. 

Felix has the urge to march up to the man and hurl the jar of morning glory pollen in his face just to see him sputter on it.

“Bouquet of flowers,” Annette repeats, a tight smile on her lips, pointedly ignoring the man’s flirtatious remark. “Hm, yes. I do believe I can do that for you. Is there someone in particular that it’s for? Any flowers you’re thinking of?”

“Oh!” The man leans forward, eyes wide with excitement. “Yes, it’s for a date. I was thinking a bouquet of roses, cliche though it may be, but romantic enough to make a girl swoon over me on the first date, y’know?” The man smiles as he rubs the back of his neck, the gold watch on his wrist glittering under the store lights.

_ Great, a rich prick who believes he's a real hotshot_, Felix thinks, shaking his head as he returned his attention back to the potion bubbling away in his cauldron. 

He briefly wonders if the customer who had requested the love potion currently brewing would mind if it was used to stain a crisp white dress shirt and pristine leather shoes instead of its intended use. It's a thought that he quickly casts aside, lest he actually follows through with it.

He listens quietly as Annette continues to take down the details of the man’s order, and thankfully, the flirtatious comments have ceased. He can only hope it stays that way for the rest of the man’s visit.

“It’ll take some time for me to prepare it, so feel free to look around while you wait. Oh, and sorry! What is your name?”

“Gautier. Sylvain Gautier,” the red-headed man responds, smile sly and teasing, “But you can call me-”

“Well, Mr. Gautier, if you happen to be interested in potions, Felix can help you right over there while you're waiting,” Annette interrupts him, squeezing her eyes shut as she reaches a hand up to rub at her forehead, the other gesturing in Felix’s general direction. “He brews some of the finest potions in all of Fhirdiad. It would be a shame if you missed out on something like that, wouldn't it?”

Felix shoots a pointed look at Annette just before she disappears into the back room, and she gives him a half-hearted shrug, a sympathetic smile on her face as if to say _ good luck_. The customer pauses, briefly glancing at the doorway she’d hurried through before slowly approaching Felix’s work bench, eyes flickering over the cauldron before following the lines of jars he stores his ingredients in on the shelves behind him. 

“So...uh, Felix, right? You make potions?” The man, Sylvain, asks quietly when their eyes finally meet, his once bright and flirty expression now unreadable.

Felix stares back at him. “Yes.”

"Some of the finest in Fhirdiad?"

"So I'm told."

A funny look crosses the Sylvain’s face for a moment before it’s gone, and a polite–almost forced–smile so unlike the easy, flirtatious one he’d given Annette appears on his lips.

“Good, good. I...have a request for you, actually." A pause, before he coughs awkwardly, eyebrows knitting together before Felix watches him take a deep breath and open his mouth to say:

"I need you to make me a love potion.”


End file.
